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  1. #1
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    Let's see something old

    Post your oldest hunting photo you can find. Let's see some of those old rifles and the gear we all used to wear.
    I go to the Mountains to loose my mind and find my soul.

  2. #2
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    Click image for larger version. 

Name:	High Sierras-1954.jpg 
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ID:	19668

    1954, I was 12 years old. My first wilderness, backcountry deer hunting trip. Rode horses into camp. I didn't get a deer. I am shooting my 03 Springfield, reworked military stock and iron sights. I still have the gun and shoot it today.
    Click image for larger version. 

Name:	Springfield 003.jpg 
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    63 years later, still shoots sub moa.
    Colorado Cowboy
    Cowboy Action Shooter; Endowment Life Member-NRA, NRA certified Range Safety Officer, Pistol Instructor, Rifle Instructor, RMEF, Boone & Crockett Club.
    The Original Rocket Scientist-Retired
    "My Father always considered a walk in the mountains as the equivalent of church going."
    Aldous Huxley


  3. #3
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    Wow. That's so cool CC. Thanks for sharing
    I go to the Mountains to loose my mind and find my soul.

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  5. #4
    Eastmans' Staff / Moderator
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    Very cool CC.
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  7. #5
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    That is awesome CC! Beautiful rifle!


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

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  9. #6
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    I like the "character" that's just in front of the trigger guard. I bet that's a story in itself.
    I go to the Mountains to loose my mind and find my soul.

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  11. #7
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    Quote Originally Posted by Ikeepitcold View Post
    I like the "character" that's just in front of the trigger guard. I bet that's a story in itself.
    I made the stock about 50 years ago (one of the first I did) and honestly don't remember how it got there!
    Colorado Cowboy
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    "My Father always considered a walk in the mountains as the equivalent of church going."
    Aldous Huxley

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  13. #8
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    1974.....I was 10 years old at the time. I still remember my dad going to the local gun shop in Riverside California and buying a Winchester Model 70 in .243. We would often go shooting out in "Pigeon Pass" near where we lived and I got to shoot the new rifle a few times which I thought was pretty cool.

    That fall my dad had booked a hunt in the Wrangel Mountains in Alaska with Doug Vaden. My dad would be hunting moose, Dall sheep for my oldest brother (15 years older than I), and caribou for my brother in law. I was along as my dad's moose hunting sidekick. I had fun in base camp exploring, throwing road apples at the girl my age in camp, finding moose sheds, fishing for grayling and listening to stories around the dinner table. I still remember the outfitter telling us how when he first discovered the lodge building it was full of hair from hibernating grizzlies.

    One afternoon we went for a horseback ride along the White River. After we had turned back towards camp we came across a lone caribou bull. My brother-in-law was asked if he wanted to take him and he decided to wait (later he killed a B&C bull!). My dad then asked me if I wanted to shoot it. Up to that point I had absolutely NO idea I was hunting. I took a "rest" prone over my dad and with his breathing the crosshairs were all over the place. A couple shots later I had my first big game animal ever. I later learned the outfitter had told my dad he enjoyed having kids along on the hunts and if my dad bought me a tag, the he would let me take a caribou for free. That was my first an only big game animal until I moved to Oregon at 18 years of age.

    My dad cultivated my love for hunting and fishing. I've since lost my dad and mom in an auto accident in 1999. But I know that one day we will see each other again.



  14. #9
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    Quote Originally Posted by Umpqua Hunter View Post
    1974.....I was 10 years old at the time. I still remember my dad going to the local gun shop in Riverside California and buying a Winchester Model 70 in .243. We would often go shooting out in "Pigeon Pass" near where we lived and I got to shoot the new rifle a few times which I thought was pretty cool.

    That fall my dad had booked a hunt in the Wrangel Mountains in Alaska with Doug Vaden. My dad would be hunting moose, Dall sheep for my oldest brother (15 years older than I), and caribou for my brother in law. I was along as my dad's moose hunting sidekick. I had fun in base camp exploring, throwing road apples at the girl my age in camp, finding moose sheds, fishing for grayling and listening to stories around the dinner table. I still remember the outfitter telling us how when he first discovered the lodge building it was full of hair from hibernating grizzlies.

    One afternoon we went for a horseback ride along the White River. After we had turned back towards camp we came across a lone caribou bull. My brother-in-law was asked if he wanted to take him and he decided to wait (later he killed a B&C bull!). My dad then asked me if I wanted to shoot it. Up to that point I had absolutely NO idea I was hunting. I took a "rest" prone over my dad and with his breathing the crosshairs were all over the place. A couple shots later I had my first big game animal ever. I later learned the outfitter had told my dad he enjoyed having kids along on the hunts and if my dad bought me a tag, the he would let me take a caribou for free. That was my first an only big game animal until I moved to Oregon at 18 years of age.

    My dad cultivated my love for hunting and fishing. I've since lost my dad and mom in an auto accident in 1999. But I know that one day we will see each other again.

    Wow, that might be one of the coolest stories I have read in a while.
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  16. #10
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    Same here. Great story Jim.
    I go to the Mountains to loose my mind and find my soul.

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